


Wrench and Sword

by Vidjauser



Category: Disenchantment (TV 2018)
Genre: Action & Romance, Adventure & Romance, Alchemy, Alcohol, Angst, Angst and Romance, Awkward Romance, Beandergast, Dorks in Love, Drama, Drama & Romance, Drugs, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Fun, Hurt, Idiots in Love, Knight, Love, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, Love/Hate, Lust, Maybe sex, Need a ship name for sky and bean, OCs - Freeform, Original Characters - Freeform, Romance, Sexy Times, Thinking about eventual smut, Tragic Romance, Violence, War, damage, drunk, horse, man, sciencetist, smut MAYBE, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23290183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vidjauser/pseuds/Vidjauser
Summary: Bean can wield a wrench and sword, but not both. Stuck in a love triangle between two unimaginable people, she is not so sure if she can handle it. She is not even sure if she can choose.
Relationships: Bean | Tiabeanie/Pendergast (Disenchantment), Bean | Tiabeanie/Sky (Disenchantment), Love triangle - Relationship
Comments: 15
Kudos: 15





	1. Could This Really Happen?

“Are we even sure this is the way to the unicorn?” Turbish confusingly asked Pendergast. They were in the midst of a forest, in the midst of nowhere while searching for something that was possibly nothing. The mission, given to them by King Zog, was leading them nowhere.  _ Literally _ , nowhere. They were in the forest called the Lost Nowhere—evidently, it was a place from which no one returned. Nobody knew what was there, really: only the myths and legends told the stories. For all they knew, the place had dragons or fairies… but the demonic kind, but not really as no one really returned to tell their tales. Though that’s not what they were looking for. They were looking for the legendary black unicorn—which Zog wanted to gift for his daughter in hopes that she would behave for once. But everyone knew that wasn’t going to happen. Yet, here they were.

Pendergast pulled his horse off to the side and wiped his sweaty forehead with a dampened cloth. His armor did not feel good on his body, and he wished he could take it off. However, that was impossible, since he technically was still on duty. But his duty took him to the worse place imaginable: it was humid and sweltering hot. The forest was on the edge of the volcanic kingdom, and Dankmire. They were still recovering from their encounter with the fire giant, which took them down by another three men.

“I’m sure of it,” the Captain reassured his man with a confident tone, “That lady said that it would be.” 

“How sure? We don’t even know where we are.”

“That’s because you’re holding the map upside down, Turbish.”

“ _ Oh _ .” Turbish turned his map sideways. “It’s still not working.”

Pendergast leaned over to Turbish’s horse and snatched the map, turning it the correct way. “There you go.”

“Oh!” Turbish brightened and squinted his eyes along the map, though he really wasn’t scrutinizing it well. 

It had been a long day and Pendergast merely wanted to set up camp and rest: his feet hurt from the metal squeezing them all day, and his body itched all over from the bugs who viewed him as their next meal. He was about to pitch the idea to his fellow knights when Turbish brightly pointed at a red circled part on the map. 

“Lookie here! There,” the bulbous blonde pointed out the mark with a dumb grin, “That’s where the unicorn for Bean is.”

“Really?” the man frowned. He took a look closer. “We went past there sixteen times already and saw nothing.” 

Did the girl really need a unicorn? This mission began to look more hopeless and hopeless by the minute. She had a cat and an elf already, and a nice castle to live in. What else did she need? A knight’s sword? With a groan, the man ran a hand over the back of the neck, which was marked with unseen red dots from the mosquitos that were quite frisky that day. Well, if they had to go back, then maybe that’s where they would set up camp for the night. So, he kept the idea to himself for now.

“Surely, we just looked past it,” Turbish pointed out.

“That, or it’s hiding under a log,” Sir Mertz added.

Pendergast had to roll his eye. How did he get stuck working for this apparent circle of knights? How come his best men died rather than them? It must be some sort of curse. Course, over the years, he enjoyed their presence, but they were still dumb for his taste. “Why the hell would it be under a log, you idiot?” he hissed. 

“Maybe it’s a little shy and doesn’t want to come out because we’re around.”

“Highly unlikely. Now, let’s go.” He kicked the side of his horse and turned him around, taking off in the direction that had come from originally. There was a rhythmic pounding of hooves as him and his crew ventured through the same mossy forest, the same paths, stepping over rotten logs and becoming stuck in the mud. It was maddening, to say the least. After a ten minute ride, they came upon a familiar clearing that luckily was also perfect for a camp: lacking mud and having enough even space to pitch a tent. 

The Captain climbed off his horse and placed his hands on his hips as he looked around. “This looks like the place.”

“Yeh, it is! It’s right here, on the map” Turbish exclaimed, holding up the map, which was now mostly torn and ruined from their ride through the sinking mud that nearly swallowed them whole, and took some of their boots while it was at it. “And the unicorn should be near ‘ere. Maybe even there!” He pointed across the river, where there was a figure. Not quite the same figure as a horse, but rather that of a person who was bending over to pick up something while being shrouded by both the fog and the darkness provided by the trees. “Who is that?”

“Who is who?”

“That?” Mertz steered the Captain’s gaze with his finger. 

Pendergast gestured over to the mysterious person. “You mean that person over there?”

“Yes. Who else would I be referring to?”

“Well, you could be talking about Turbish over there.”

“Oh my.” After lowering his map—which was upside down again—Turbish looked across the murky river. Even he did not need a brain to know who the figure was when his comrades failed to recognize him. He gasped, dropping the map. He dropped from his saddle instantaneously and ran his fingers through the small tuff of his hair. “Isn’t that the Dragon Lady?”

“The Dragon lady?” Pendergast gave him a questionable expression. “By who, do you mean of this Dragon lady? Who the hell is she?”

“Oh, I meant to say  _ Dragon Man _ .”

Instantly, Pendergast knew who Turbish was referring to that man, though it did take him longer to remember than he would have liked. He did not expect to hear or see from that bastard again after he had escaped from the room and locked his Princess Tiabeanie in the cell after him. And he was not about to not let him get away after that unforgettable  _ and  _ unforgivable action. His scruffed chin turned downward into a scowl. The knight knew what he must do, and that was to take the man back to Dreamland and throw him back into the prison cell, where he rightfully would rot. Perhaps this entire time, this was where he had escaped to. But not for long. 

Clearly, the knight had lost half his brain when he decided to approach the bank of the muddy river that separated the Dragon-Man’s and Pendergast’s clearing. 

“Sir, what are you doing?”

“Trying to get over there. What do you think?” Pendergast tested the waters with his boot and nearly was sucked in before he pulled away. 

“But it’s too hard!” Mertz spoke up, “The mud is deep and if the current doesn’t take you away, then the mud will take you down like quicksand. We don’t want to go down like that.”

Pendergast grunted, grimacing. For once, the idiot was right. However, he knew he needed to cross somehow.

Oh yeah, the  _ horses _ . 

* * *

Skybert hated being out of his workspace, and away from all his inventions. Damn that white-haired princess for knocking him out of his own airship. Had he not made a quick Escape Cloth with his overalls and goggles, then he would have fallen promptly to his death. Though he had lived, it was hell trying to survive the past several weeks with none of his tools that were back home. He had to make new ones from scratch and avoid the problems around him simultaneously. He had survived this long and established a simple routine to get himself through every day without going mad. Even if it would be difficult, he had to make a new airship and get the hell out of there. Given enough time, he would be able to find the right materials out of nothing. However, it would be enough time to grow a full-length beard, if he had to be honest with himself. He did not like beards, and how they would bother him while he was working. 

All because of that princess, he was boots-deep in this shit. 

Now, he was stuck in the forest where he had to make plant-finding a hobby. 

Finding plants to smash into a pasty mix was not his favorite thing to do, but he always did it before bed to spread on his body to prevent any more bugs from biting him while he slept.

The man could have found his way out of the forest if his damn compass had been working, and not broken from the fall. He looked at it every day in hopes that it would be miraculously working again. Instead, he had to carefully map out where he was going on a piece of bark he kept tucked inside his belt. Even for the simple errands, he had to be careful cause he learned quickly that everywhere looked the same to him. 

“Danken-Peppermint. Check,” he spoke to himself and took a mental note that he had found enough for the day. He stuffed the herb carefully into his makeshift pouch and concluded his last chore for the night. Hopefully, there would at least be a little bit more light for him to be able to work on his machinery. He only had so much firewood cut for the next few days.

Just as he was about to leave, there was a commotion across the river that caught his attention. He drew his eyes across it, his jaw both tightening and slacking open at the same time at what he saw. He saw the familiar colors of the red and blue that belonged to what he loathed the most:  _ Dreamland knights. _ He frowned directly at the dirty-blonde one he knew as the Captain, making eye contact with him with the little that he had. They were now glaring at each other. Now was the time to get out of there. 

Skybert gestured goodbye smugly from the other and turned around, running off as quickly as he could away from the scene. 

_ What were they even doing there in the first place? _ He asked himself as he took off as fast as he could. 

Immediately, the Captain of the knights imploded with anger. How dare he run away! He gritted his teeth and pointed his sword after Sky’s running frame. There was no way that he would allow him to escape again, and no muddy river would change his mind. “It’s the Dragon-Man! After him, men!” he ordered through the hiss of his teeth and climbed on his horse to begin the chase.

Crossing the river was no easy task. 

The horses threw their heads back, releasing cries of panic as they could hardly pull their legs out of the mud. Every step forward was more than forty steps back. Forget about sitting ducks, they were sitting horses there. Turbish’s horse actually sat down, refusing to move any further, causing the chubby knight to slide right off his saddle and cling to his horse for dear life as not to drown in the river of mud. The caked mud would be merely impossible to clean off by the end of the day. 

“Go on without me!” he reached out at his quickly advancing comrades crossing against the heavy current that struck him in the mouth. 

“We were planning on it, Turbish!” Pendergast called out.

The last two reached the other side amazingly, and their horses thundered across the ground as they carelessly chased after the Steamland man. The surroundings around them were long forgotten. Pendergast kept his eye on the ground, watching for the deep bootprints and following them closely. The trail ended in a narrow path of trees, but before he could bring himself to a complete stop to observe where they had turned, a large net caught him and Ser Mertz in the face, knocking them to the ground with a loud thud. The horses, not having been caught by the net, reared before they raced off—obviously spooked. 

“I’m hit, sir!”

“No, shit… Get yourself out, and find that Dragon—” the Captain hissed. 

The two knights scrambled on their backs, trying to escape the thick net. Both were very much vulnerable.

From noisy thickets, Sky emerged with a smug grin. Had the knights been that dumb to get caught in one of his traps? Though it was saved to catch some large dinner like a deer, he was enthusiastic it served a greater purpose in saving his hide. He had caught the two before they would catch him. Pendergast resisted the urge to use the string from the net to strangle the bastard and his shit-eating grin. Not that he could. No, he glared at him instead. 

“By the order of the King of Dream—” 

“Unfortunately, you are out of the jurisdiction of your kind,” Sky brought up with his arms crossed. “In fact, if my navigation on this geographical location was correct when your  _ princess  _ threw me out of my own ship, then we should practically be more in Dankmire than Dreamland. But who knows? We could be in hell for all we know. You have no authority here.” He could have played dumb like the last time he was in their custody, but now it was them who was in his. He wasn’t going to act like anyone’s bitch any more.

Pendergast frowned. The last line bothered him, but not as much as what he heard come out of his mouth. There was a certain protectiveness growing inside him. He stopped struggling, just for a moment as he processed what the knight had said. “What do you mean _ threw out _ ? Where the hell were you with Bean?” For some reason, there was a bit of a gleam of vulnerability in his eye that Sky witnessed. 

“What happened, happened, and it was a while back.”

That did not sound reassuring.

“Have you been  _ here  _ this entire time?”

“Unfortunately, there was no way for me to figure my way out, and I doubt that you can either. What brings you out here anyway? Come looking for me?”

Pendergast shook his head. 

“Then why did you chase me?”

The knight frowned at the other and his tone of voice against him. Had the Dragon completely forgot what he had done to the kingdom, especially when he burned down the elve’s homes? “Decided to kill two pigs with one cleaver. While we’re out here, we might as well as take you back to your cell when we find what we’re looking for.”

Sky scoffed. “I’m not going back.”

“You have no choice—” In the blink of his eye, Pendergast tore his sword from his sheath and sliced it in front of him. It tore through the netting like a hot knife on butter, and nearly knicked Sky in the stomach as it slashed through the air. Sky jumped backward and out of the way, but Pendergast was on him seconds later, holding him by his collar and keeping his sword pinned across his throat. Now, it was his turn to grin at the other male. “Unfortunately, you did not pay for your crime, Dragon, and it’s about time you did.” He grabbed Sky’s wrist and twisted his arm behind his back. “I got him. Mertz, get me the rope. Best tie him up before he can turn and fly away from us.”

“I’m not a drag—”

“You got it, sir.”

Mertz threw the torn net off his face and managed to roll himself off the ground. After whistling to his horse, it cautiously came back long enough for the knight to retrieve the rope from the saddle sachel. He took a decent-sized rope and gave it to Pendergast, who took the sword off Sky’s neck long enough to tie his hands behind his back. Then the blade kissed him once more.

“What’s keeping me from running off?” Sky threatened. 

“Unless you want me to cut your feet off, I suggest you stay close.”

“ _ Hmph _ .” Sky accepted his defeat for now. “Well, how are we going to get out of this damn forest, then? Seems one can only get hopelessly lost out here.”

“Leave that to the professionals.” Pendergast slapped Sky’s back, causing the redhead to tumble forward. “Mertz, he’ll ride your horse. I’ll see if I can track our way back out of the forest. Once I find my damn horse,” he grumbled.

“You got it, sir!” Mertz saluted to his Captain as Pendergast had his back to him. Then, the subordinate knight turned to the unamused Sky, waving his hand toward his horse. “Get on! I am sure we can come up with some fun games to play while on the road, like Eye-Sky—”

Sky blinked, nearly frowning at him. There was no way that this was any reality of his. “Oh, come on—”

Pendergast scratched his head. Where had his horse gone? The knight was surprised it had not returned when Mertz had whistled for his own. Hopefully, it had not gone too far, because he needed to finish the mission and get the terrorist back to the kingdom for his execution. The male wandered through the thickets of grass, making him enjoy his uniform for once as it protected him from chaffing and future itching from the weird plants he was passing through. He pushed some leaves out of his face and put his fingers in his mouth—whistling for his horse again and again, but still, nothing came.

“Where’s the damn thing?” he mumbled to himself and pushed himself through again, “Get back here!”

Thoughts coming to a halt, Pendergast stopped, vines draped right above his head, barely moving just like his breath. Similar to the clearing he had planned to set up camp in, there was one before him. However, there was a small difference: in the distance, there was a horse, and it was not his. On its head, protruded a long sapphire horn. Suddenly, the man’s mood was lifted and he gave the horse a cocky smile. 

Pendergast found the unicorn.

“Looks like I found more than a dragon, but a unicorn too,” he said cockily, “Now all that’s left is to catch you, just like I caught him.”

The unicorn was beautiful; its coat was jet black and blended in with the night sky. Its mane looked like it had a personal groomer, free of knots and any tangles. It had a color gradient of black to silver, then to a white that resembled Tiabeanie’s own hair. A perfect present that Zog would give to his daughter all because of yours truly. He could almost imagine what he would say to her, and the expression on her face when she saw it. He knew, even if just for a bit, that she would love the gift.   
He first had to catch the unicorn.

Pendergast took a cautious step forward, not noticing a twig until he stepped on it. A crack echoed through the silent wind. 

The unicorn lifted its head, looking him directly in the eye, munching away on some Dankmire Weeds. Yet, she was calm and continued eating away, and Pendergast hoped that it remained that way. He did not have any rope to catch the unicorn, and if she ran away, then who knew when he would see her again. He would have to break her right here and now, and that would be harder than chasing Sky through this God-forbidden forest. 

“Atta, girl. You want to come with me, yeah? Yeah, I’m sure you do.”

Moving down in an offensive pose, he was nearing rapidly. 

“You’ll like it better back in Dreamland. This is a mess that you’re in right now.”

Now, he was only a couple of inches away. Close enough to touch her. Still, the horse was making no attempt to run away. She pushed her head back down and chomped away on the grass. All he had to do was reach out and touch her mane, then she was his. 

“You’ll have a new owner. She’s the princess. You’re the same color as her cat. You’ll get along fine with them. Just come with me.”

Pendergast ran his gloved hand down her mane and pet her once he was next to her side. She was a tame beast, as though she already belonged to someone. How  _ strange _ . He pet her more, all the way down her bareback then back up to her head; her jaw still worked on chewing the grass, forcing him to feel her muscles move as his fingers brushed against them. 

“That was easier than I thought. You’re a good girl, eh? Well, best not waste any time getting you back, then.” His eye ganders around the area, then he released a sigh. “I guess if you don’t mind, I’ll be riding you back. My damn horse is nowhere to be found.” 

As he moved to her side and placed his hand on her side to venture up, still the unicorn remained calm. He climbed his way up on her back and straddled her. He smiled, content as he was successful the first time. “Heh, you don’t mind me at all, do you, girl?” He patted the side of her neck. “Now, let’s go.” He kicked her sides, and the unicorn took off fast enough that Pendergast nearly tumbled backward off her. He caught onto her silky mane and held on tighter than he ever had before in all his years riding. 

When he returned to Mertz, he hardly could believe the speed of which he traveled. He was there, even though he swore it took him close to a half-hour to find the horse after he had left his knights. Turbish, although covered in mud, had returned during his absence, smiling at him with his usual stupid grin. The grins soon became shocked expressions, staring with wide eyes. 

“You found the unicorn, boss!” Turbish clapped and cheered. 

Normally it would have boosted Pendergast’s ego, but he felt as calm and content as the horse.

“He’s beautiful—Bean will love ‘im for sure!” 

Behind Mertz on his horse, Sky cringed at the mention of the princess.  _ Ugh _ , so they had been hunting for a unicorn this entire time, and for what? To give it to that bratty princess? Why did it seem so believable but not at the same time? Rather than speak up about it, the scientist chose to keep his mouth shut. He sighed deeply and looked the other way. 

Chuckling, Pendergast patted her side. “Sure did. Matter-of-fact, she just let me climb up,” he said, sounding accomplished. 

“Great, that means we can go,” Turbished exclaimed, relieved. 

“Mama will be upset that I done let dinner get cold. We’ve been out for an awfully long while.”

“Exactly. We have business to take care of back at the castle with a little someone, so it’s best we return now.” 

Sky knew that it was him that Pendergast was referring to. Barely glancing over his shoulder at the other, a certain spark shot between them. And it was more than just a certain hatred for each other. No, something far more intense would unfold with the two once they returned back to Dreamland. 


	2. Say What?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returning to the castle is a nightmare when Skybert has to prove himself useful before his execution. Meanwhile, Bean is frustrated when she is tasked with doing something for Derek after getting in trouble. Again.

Like any other abnormally hot Autumn day, Bean, Luci, and Elfo were spending time out on Bean’s balcony. The couple of friends were drinking beers that they had stolen from people on the streets: strange fellows who carried large bags on their backs. The princess, demon, and elf, weren’t entirely drunk yet, but the princess was somewhat tipsy and teetering over the edge of her sober state-of-being. That, and she was dangerously leaning over the edge of the castle balcony. 

“Here’s to another lousy day!” she said and lifted her mug of the strong alcohol, gulping it with strong swigs that were displayed evidently from the humps traveling down her throat.

“Amen to that, sister,” Luci purred, “I’ll have to steal this recipe from those merchants when we see them again. Maybe sell it and make millions of Zogs!”

Elfo huffed, frowning at the other. All of this sounded insane. “Stealing is strong, you know.”

“Yeah, but it pays the bills. Right, Bean?”

“Hey, they don’t pay mine. I don’t have any to pay them at all. That’s my dad’s job.”

“Oh yeah. Even better!” Luci lifted his mug to Bean, who clinked her’s against his. Elfo watched them but scoffed—preferring his cotton candy brandy over than whatever alcohol they were drinking: his sweet tooth was obsessed with the sugary aftershock it gave him. A drink that he had bought himself, unlike the other two, which gave him a very satisfying feeling that he was sure they did not feel. Yet, he could not stay mad with the two and chose to keep his mouth shut and enjoyed the time that he would be spending with his friends. 

“What if we took all the alcohols of the world and combined them together?” the princess asked, holding her hands close together for some sort of emphasis.

“I think you would get every single of your hangovers all combined into one.” Amused, Luci used his tail to refill Bean’s drink. She took it down like it was a single shot. “Oh yeah!” she said and threw the mug over the edge without a care that it would hurt someone.

“Bean?” there called a meek voice from the doorframe leading back inside.

“Hmm?”

Bean tore her face away from her other mug and craned her neck over her shoulder to see who had joined, though cringed at who she saw. She saw her pathetic brother standing there, hugging one of his toys to his chest. His entire body language told her that he was in one of his insecure moods, which she was no prepared to deal with at the moment.

“What do you want, Derek?”

“What are you doing?”

“Drinking. What does it look like?” She raised her cup and released a shrilling laugh. “Drinking like we’re down in hell!”

Elfo crossed his arms. “Um, not. Let’s not go there again. That’s not an experience I enjoyed, really.”

“Oh, yeah… Sorry, Elfo!” Bean slapped his back and nearly threw him over the large ledge. Just as Bean stood to address her brother, Elfo caught himself just in time and struggled to climb back over to his seat. 

“Luci, help me!”

“Naw, I think I’ll pass.” Luci grinned at him. “Having fun there?”

“Shut up and  _ help  _ me!”

“As you wish.” With the same mischievous grin, Luci moved and stuck his bottom out to Elfo, allowing for the elf to grab his tail to pull himself up. 

“Ew, not with your butt—”

Bean was not one to hold her liquor well. Well, she could, but not after the number of bottles and mugs she had just consumed. Derek knew this, but still could not help but feel curious about his sister when she was drunk. Her entire personality would change in a way that made him believe she had two of them. And now, his sister had upgraded from just being tipsy. The princess wobbled and approached her half-brother, exaggeratingly bending down to match his level, her eyes blinking unevenly as she met his. He took a step back, but his sister caught him by his sleeve before he could get too far away. The young son of Oona admittedly was a bit frightened now. 

“Bean, you’re awfully close.”

“Say, Derek, isn’t it  _ your  _ birthday in a few days?”

Derek hesitantly nodded. “Y-Yeah…” 

Bean tugged his sleeve but a bit harshly, practically sending the young prince barreling into the ground. “ _ Heeeeeey _ ! That’s awesome. You’re going to be a man,  _ man _ !” She finally released him and swigged her drink again, wiping her mouth. Then, she looked into her own disoriented reflection as it stared back at her. Then, an idea began to form in her head. “Say… Derek…”

“Yeah?”

“If you’re going to be a man, then you should learn how to drink.”  
“What?!” Derek gasped. What would his mother say if she had returned from one of her trips and saw him drink away his sorrows just like his sister did? “No! I would never drink! It makes you do weird things. What if it makes me do weird things?”

“Oh come  _ ooooonnnnn _ ! I’ll be right here, buddy, and I won’t let anything happen to you,” she reassured him and shoved the drink into his hands. She snatched his stuffed animal and held it above his head in some extra push to bully him into drinking the alcohol. The boy really did not have much of a choice now, did he?

“Hey, give me back Mr. Stuffers!” Derek reached above his head with his free hand but his sister was too tall for his own good. 

“Not until you drink something.”

“If you’re going to make him drink something, then you should make him drink this.” Luci had been watching, amused. He pulled a wine bottle of a drink he personally made back at the bar. It would tear right through Derek’s intestines without the boy even knowing.

Again, Elfo frowned at the demon and attempted to be the voice of reason between the two. “Are you sure that Zøg will like it that his  _ young  _ son will be drinking?”

Bean scoffed, gesturing with the hand that held Derek’s toy. “Pft, now. He’ll be drinking too much to even notice himself.”

Luci jumped to his feet. He walked over and filled Derek his own mug, handing it to Bean and taking hers. “Then I say bottoms up.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” Elfo tried to reason again.

“Do I have to, Bean?”

“Mr. Stuffers will drink with you. See?” Bean gave him the mug and took hers, then held it up to the toy’s mouth, basically drowning it with the drink. Derek watched and gulped, then glanced at his own drink. It reeked like a cat died with his father’s cheese in his room. 

“Well… If you say so,” he said. His nose still crinkled. There was no confidence in his voice, yet he still pressed his lips to the cold metal. He tasted a bit of his sister’s makeup but was not very much disturbed. He closed his eyes—squeezing them tight—when he tasted a bittersweet liquid touch his tongue. He grimaced nearly and gagged down the drink. He stopped halfway through the drink and yanked it away from his face, panting. 

Bean crossed her arms. “You’ll have to drink more than that. C’mon, be like Mr. Stuffers.”

“How much?” he wheezed more. 

“All of it.”

Derek did not like the way the drink settled in his stomach, but he had to do it. Even if just for Mr. Stuffers. “Okay.”

Once again, the young Derek began to drink. The effects of the alcohol immediately began to take effect as the prince’s body began to feel weird, starting with the small sensations emitted from about from everywhere. His fingertips and head felt it the most, however. Was this what being drunk felt like? Shaking his head, he shoved the mug back to his sister and snatched his toy before she could make him drink more. 

There. It was done.

“Are you going to watch me? So I don’t do something stupid like you?”

“Sure can! Look, buddy, you’re going to  _ love  _ this… You’ve always wanted to hang out with us,  _ so— _ ” The princess slapped her brother’s back.

“Do it, do it,  _ dewwwww _ it!”

“Well, if you insist…”  
Derek would _not_ love it. It did _not_ take too much time before everything began to fall apart. Shortly after having had his first drink, Derek did not feel good: he believed he would vomit everywhere. When he did not feel good was when he really wanted his mother, but she was gone. What was going to make him feel better? Stumbling away from his sister, he began his search for comfort, stepping out of the sight of the others—their chattering disappearing into a weird atmosphere that grew around him. 

Maybe his father was in the throne room. He always loved it when his father and he could share a snack in their thrones. Especially when they ate some pecans drizzled with the freshest of honey… Oh, honey. He already drooled at the thought of some sort of food—taking after his father—in his stomach. Taking a different direction, Derek ended up in the kitchen. It was empty though he did not know why. The good boy that he was, he would have not done what he was about to do: without permission, he grabbed a handful of his favorable nutty snack and began to stuff the treats into his mouth. Handful after handful. 

At this stage, he would not think of the tempered discipline he would receive. 

Derek found the honey after searching for it for a couple of minutes. He sat down on the ground in front of a food crate and stuffed his hand into the bowl of honey, scooping it out like a bear. The honey squished between his fingertips, sticking them together in a way that made him giggle. 

“Oh! I’m sure father would want a snack too. What do you think, Stuffers?”

The toy stared at him and said nothing.

“With extra honey. You’re right.” He nodded.

Stumbling as he stood, the prince grabbed the edges of the crate and pulled himself to his feet. He grabbed another bowl of honey and stuffed as many handfuls of almonds and other kinds of nuts that he could into the bowl. He smiled at the obviously over-flowed bowl. 

“Dad will surely be happy! Let’s go. Ow—owie—”

The prince stopped and ran a hand over his stomach, a sudden pain throbbing like never before. However, the throbs did not last long and faded away. “Huh… Weird,” he mumbled and shook off the weird feeling on his shoulders and ventured on. 

His feet wobbled and he struggled to keep a straight pace all the way to the throne room. He could hardly place one foot in front of the other without wanting to fall forward. It was a bit of a nightmare, he would think to himself if he could. The servants he passed gave him weird expressions, but to him, they were blurs. Somewhere along the way, he dropped his second favorite toy and forgot about it. When he came to the throne room, he was ready to burst in. Though, he did not know about the big crowd he was about to face, nor did he care. King Zøg was having some sort of meeting, but the drunken boy did not understand and marched right in. 

“F-Father, I brought you a snack! Oops, some of it is falling on the ground…” Derek laughed at the dropping nuts. “Sorry!”

Zøg froze and stopped addressing his people. He looked off to the side with a wide jaw. Having had a daughter already of the same profession, he knew what was going on. However, he could not believe it and was in-fact pretty much breathless at the sight. 

“Son, what are ya doin’?”

“I brought you a snack!”

“Can’t you see that I’m busy?”

“Too busy for a snack? I brought your favorite! Nuts. Oh, wait… Don’t you call them  _ balls _ ?” he corrected himself.

“Derek!” Zøg hissed, redness from both anger and embarrassment rose to his cheeks, brighter than his own hair color. He slapped his face, facepalming. He had a feeling Bean was involved in his son’s sudden drunken state: looking around at the others, he watched as they started to whisper and worried about their image. More importantly, his. “Derek, I’m in the middle of a meetin’, can’t ya see? Go… sit in yer throne of somethin’. Better yet, actually leave! I have important matters to tend to.” He ushered him away with the wave of his hand, but his son did not move. Instead, tears whelmed in his eyes. Then, the annoyed King did not know how to truly feel.

“Are you mad at me…?” Derek sniffled and lowered the bowl.

“No, I just want you to go away.”

“Why? I thought I was your son!”

“Of course ya is! I ain’t tellin’ ya to go away forever. Just get out of the damn throne room while I’m busy.”

“But—”

“Odval, get him out of here…”

The thin man had watched the scene, and of course, knew the princess had been involved. Course, he was too amused to involve himself before the King told him to. “Of course, sir. My apologies for his sudden intrusion.” Odval moved his hands from behind his back and reached to grab the prince and pull him out of the meeting: his fingers brushed against the tense shoulders of the young prince, and the prince immediately hunched over at the touch.

“Derek? Derek, what’s up with yer face?” Zøg frowned. 

“I don’t feel so well—”

Before Odval could properly pull him away from the King, Derek vomited on his father’s lap. Everyone in the room gasped and covered their mouths in horror. Some had to turn away. Such an incident had never happened before, even with the princess. Zøg was left in his own shock, and stood, cringing as the slop slid off his robs and plopped against the floor. He watched as his son wiped his mouth, and gripped his own fist until he popped a blood vein. The hushed whispers around him taunted at him.

Zøg gripped both his fists. “ _ BEANIE _ !” His voice echoed through all the hallways of the castle. There was no escaping it. 

Just then, Bean and her two companions threw open the doors to the front of the throne room, giggling amongst themselves while not noticing the eyes that were now on them—especially the infuriated ones of her father. 

“I can’t believe he drank it, Bean. That was  _ pure  _ alcohol. Nothing like the watered-down shit I sell.”

“If you’re asking me, I think it was rude that you forced him to.”

“Oh, shut up, Elfo. Derek has to learn how to grow up somehow—”

“ _ —Ahem _ .” Zøg coughed.

Bean jumped and whipped her head over toward her father. He was covered in gross vomit with Derek in front of him. Her eyes moved back and forth between them.

“Oh shit.”

_ Oh shit, indeed. _

* * *

Bean had been in her room since the incident that happened a couple of days ago, slumped on her couch like a pouting teenager. No, not like one. She  _ was  _ one. She blew a piece of her long white hair out of her face and then again when it fell back down on her face, feeling bored as ever. The rebel princess would have long run away, to go drink her frustration in her friend’s tavern, but her father had adapted to her way of escaping. Somehow, there would be men waiting for her if she had climbed out of her window, which was completely unorthodox of her father to do more than the usual guards outside her door. How, he did it? She was not sure, because she could not stick her head out anyway. It wasn’t her fault that Derek vomited chunks all over his clothing! It wasn’t nice clothing,  _ anyways… _

The only visitors she was allowed to see was Bunty, Luci, and Elfo—though the Elfo had to be sneaky when he did so. 

Elfo did not like to see Bean so down, but at the same time, he did. It meant she was safe and sober, at least. Though, it still kind of made him feel bad on the inside seeing her that state. “Would you like to play  _ Scrabble _ ?” he asked, out of nowhere.

“No.”

“How about  _ Sorry _ ?”

“Um… Don’t apologize?” 

“Don’t be such a bore with those games.” Luci jumped up Bean’s knee. “It’ll be entertaining enough once we find out what the real punishment your father will be giving you. Still can’t believe you did that to the poor guy.”

“ _ No _ —” Elfo was interrupted. 

Bean released a long groan and hid her eyes behind her hair. “I was drunk, okay? Can’t exactly control myself when I’m piss-drunk.”

“Heh… Right.”

“When should your father be coming?” Elfo asked. 

“Any minute… So, I guess you should be hiding under the bed or something, now.”

Sure enough, the trio would hear Bean’s father arriving long before he came to the door. His heavy-set body caused his feet to slam into the ground with each step and shake the walls. That was the cue for Elfo and Luci to duck under the nearest table or cover. Several minutes later, the King marched his way into his daughter’s room, mumbling something unknown to the guards. He entered and closed the door behind him, approaching Bean, who refused to look directly at him but rather out of the corner of her eye. Zøg could definitely see this  _ civilized  _ talk would not end well.

“Bean?”

“What do you want?”

“I wanted to come and talk to you about yer punishment.” Zøg sat in one of her other couches—his weight bending it—and leaned in close; he seemed cool at the moment, but it did not mean he would not blow up any second now. He was more bipolar than she was when it was her time of the month. Though, Bean did not care about choosing her words carefully. Her father wasn’t either.

“Oh yeah? I thought you were gonna come to talk about me about getting married again.”

“If you don’t shut up, then maybe I will.  _ No _ , Bean, I want to address how inappropriate of ya to give Derek that alcohol the other day. That…  _ kind  _ of kid should not be drinkin’ yet, ya know.”

“Oh, really?” Bean crossed her arms and leaned in dramatically. “How so? How can you tell?” she asked but in more of a sarcastic tone. 

Zøg grunted, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as his daughter would. “Because he ain’t right the age to drink.”

“Oh, can it. I’m sure that you were drinking around his age.”

“Yeah, but I could handle my drink. He can’t.”

“So?”

“So, I want you to take responsibility for what ya did ta him. He won’t come out of his room now. Ya traumatized him, Beanie.”

“Not my problem he’s so sensitive.” She rolled her eyes.

There went the eye roll that Zøg did not like. He gripped his fists and tried to not yell. “He’s going to be the king one day, and you will have to respect him, Bea—”

“Oh, I didn’t know he would be. I thought Elfo would be, seeing as they’re  _ both  _ the  _ same  _ level of incompetence. Would you put Elfo on the throne?” she responded, actually not remembering the elf was still in the room. “I bet not. Besides, we’ll both look back on this day and laugh—”

“No one’s laughin’, Bean. That’s not what I’m tryin’ to get to. His reputation as the future king was tarnished today.” Zøg could not help but blow up at this point. He stood, hovering over his daughter. “You have to take responsibility for that, and I know exactly how you’ll do it.”

Bean watched him and tested her jaw, wanting to say something before her father could. 

“I’m puttin’ ya in charge of Derek’s birthday party.”

Bean blinked. Did she really just hear that?

“What?!” Bean hissed and shot straight up. “What?! Never!”

“Yer gonna make him feel better about himself, whether ya like it or not. So yer gonna be in charge of gettin’ the food together, sendin’ the invites… All thats stuff. And yer gonna do it good if ya know what’s best for ya and your precious alcohol.”

“That’s not fair!”

Bean groaned and threw herself back down on the couch obediently. How in the world would she even plan a party? Let alone a party fit enough for a prince? Derek’s birthday party was going to be here in a short few weeks. That’s not enough time to throw a proper party. None of this felt right. Making hostile eye contact with her father, she sat up a bit straighter. 

“I have a feeling that you didn’t even start the party planning yourself.”

“I… Er…” The King froze and looked away from the gaze of his daughter. She was right, actually. Oona always had the main role in throwing a party for her son, even if it was not the best in the world. But he would not admit that to Bean. “Nevermind that. It’s yer responsibility now. So, yas better get to work. Oh, and since yer cat and Elf helped ya, I guess they can help ya too. Oh, and poutin’. That don’t look good on ya.” 

King Zøg turned away before the princess could glare at him further. As he was about to exit the bedroom but when he opened the door, he was met face-to-face with the Town Crier (or the messenger).

“THE KNIGHTS RETURN IS HERE!” he announced right in Zøg’s face. 

Zøg inhaled annoyingly and ran his pinkie in his ear then wiped spit off his face. “Oh? Bout’ time…”

“THEY AWAIT IN THE COURTYARD FOR YOU, MY LORD.”

“Okay, but ya don’t have to yell.”

“My apologies, sir.”

“Wait, the knights are back?” Bean perked up and any signs of annoyance she had were gone. She bounced to her feet and before her father could protest, she slipped by both him the guards outside the door and raced down the hallway.

“Bean! Ugh, what am I going to do with that girl?” He stopped the guards from chasing her.

Bean made it outside the castle and into the courtyard, and sure enough, the knights collected in a small bundle. Though there were fewer than there were when they first left on their five-day trip. What were they supposed to be doing, again? The princess could not remember. She was probably blackout-drunk when they were sent out by her father. The curious girl craned her neck to see if the knights had brought back anything interesting, but there was only the boring Pendergast, and— _ Wait _ .  _ Wait a minute.  _

Red hair, slight stubble, and messy brown overalls? She knew who that was! 

Just as Elfo and Luci joined, Bean stormed over to Pendergast, who was replacing ropes with chains on the wrists of the man Bean could not take her eyes off of.

“What is she doing?” Elfo asked, confused. 

“Hm, I dunno.”

“ _ Skybert _ !” Bean hissed, approaching the two men from behind. 

Pendergast perked up and turned his body sideways, smiling down at Bean. “Oh! Princess, it’s nice to see you—” 

“Outta my way.” Princess skipped the pleasant introductions and shoved Pendergast by his chest to the side, and pointed her finger accusingly at Sky’s (and luckily not headbutting him), “You have a lot of nerve for showing your face here again.”

“Ah. It’s you, Bean.” Sky lifted his cuffed hands defensively. He was not at all surprised to see her. “As you can see, I did not have much of a choice. I just happened to be in the same place that your knights showed up to.” He glared at Pendergast, who was looking at him the same way with that one lame eye of his. “After you knocked me out of my ship,” he whispered to her.

“ _ Before _ , or  _ after  _ you attacked me?”

“Whatever. I didn’t choose to show up here. I especially did not want to see your face again.”

Pendergast stepped forward, grabbing his arm. “Excuse me, princess, but it is my duty to take him to the dungeon. I hope that I can talk to you, afterward.” He gave her a soft smile. Under normal circumstances, maybe Bean would have smiled back, but today, she was not in a good mood. She glared at him back.

“Isn’t there some sort of higher-up authority I can speak to?” Sky dug his heels into the ground, refusing to move. “I have the right to know.”

Pendergast remembered their earlier conversation and grinned. “As I can tell, we’re back in Dreamland. I’m the authority now.”

“Yeah, but isn’t there someone you report to?” Sky kept jerking his arm away from Pendergast. 

“Only the King, and he’s—”

“Glad to see all you made it back.” The King stepped outside, standing at the bottom step, alone. He had snuck up on the knight, even if the others could hear him coming. Zøg gandered around at his returned men, mumbling how he would have to pay for more. Call him and Bean twins because neither one of them were in good moods. His attention was brought to Pendergast and the prisoner. “Oh, tell me, you didn’t just bring  _ that  _ back,” he complained, raising his voice.

“Of course not, sir,” Pendergast responded. He kept a tight grip on Sky. “We found what we’re supposed to, and have it tucked away safely.” He glanced quickly at Bean, but then back over to Zøg. “But we found the Dragon-man as well, wandering in the forest.” With most of his strength, he grabbed Sky by his shoulders and threw him forward, right in front of Zøg’s feet so he landed on his knees.

Sky grunted and used his scraped elbows to haul him back into a more respectable pose for himself. 

Zøg looked to the redhead, unamused. Was it mentioned that he was not in a good mood? “Hmph. Been a while since we saw your back. Looks like you completely disappeared on us. What says ya?”

Sky released a deep breath through his nose. “If you’re asking if I’m wanting to cause trouble, then I am not. I was not planning to come back to disturb Dreamland, but your damn knights thought that I would and took me in, despite not causing any more trouble.”

“Hm, is that so? You set fire to a whole town of elves with yer magic.” 

Sky cringed. He knew that he was not magic, but with these people, he had to play along. “Unintentionally. That was the last thing I wanted to do.” 

“Then you ran off.”

“And I apologize greatly for that.”

Both Pendergast and Bean stepped forward defensively, bumping shoulders subconsciously without noticing. “Do not listen to him, sir,” Pendergast said quickly, “He attacked Mertz and me in the forest.”

Sky scowled over his shoulder at him. “I was merely defending myself, but if I caused any offense, then I apologize,” he said but in more of a sarcastic tone. Then he said back at the King, “I really do not want to cause any more conflicts. When I escaped the first time, I got lost in the forest...It was a big mistake that I ran away, but I take full responsibility for my actions.”

“At least  _ someone  _ will.”

Bean knew the other was lying... But why was he trying to reason with her father?

Whatever the man was trying to do, Zøg did not really want to hear it anymore. “What are ya trying to get at? Come on, speak up! I don’t have all night.”

“Sir, you really do,” Odval chimed in.

“Shut it, stick.”

“May I suggest a proposition? Surely, you would not want another person to work in your courts?”

“Why would I want to hire the sorts of you? A dragon?”

“Because I am a highly intelligent dragon that can do all sorts of stuff. I could get a lot of things done for you in the blink of an eye.”

“Dad, don’t listen to him! He’s ly—”

“ _ Shut up _ , Bean. Now, what were you sayin’?”

“I could be a good asset if you would like that. I could work for free too… To repay that debt to the elves for compensation for what I did. All of it was an accident, and I do not wish to die for my careless mistakes.”

“That charismatic  _ bastard— _ ” Bean mumbled under her breath and held her fist close to her side. Though it wasn’t quiet enough as Pendergast had heard her and kept her close to his side. 

“Don’t worry, Bean. The King wouldn’t—”

“ _ Fine _ then,” King Zøg said while shaking his head. Tonight, after talking to Bean, he was not too keen on talking any more things business-related. He was tuckered out and wanted to end this quickly. Maybe he would regret this, but who was to say. “You can work for me, but not funny business, ya got that? I got my eyes on ya. Someone get his chains off and show him to the guest room. We’ll see how useful this Dragon Guy really is for us.”

Pendergast was taken aback. “Pardon me, sir?”

“I said to take his goddamn chains off!” 

“Don’t do it, Pen—” Bean tried to reason with the Knight, but he did not listen.

“Right away, sir.” Pendergast came to Sky and worked on his chains. Without the King noticing, the man from Steamland grinned at the Captain, who tried to ignore his bubbling anger. When the chains were off, Sky rubbed his burned wrists and politely bowed to the king. 

“Thank you, sir.”

This was not really the place for him to ask, but Zøg had to, seeing as he was too exhausted to sit Sky down to have a proper conversation. “Now, seeing as I spared your life for the time being, what will you do for me?”

Sky stopped to think, but only for a second. He snapped his fingers. “Well, seeing as I am good at magic and creating things—” He went along with the morons, willing to fake it for his survival, “—I can make you anything that you want. Within reasonable time to prepare the magic, of course.” 

“Dad,  _ please _ .”

“I said, shut up, Bean! Pendergast, take ‘er away, will ya? I’m tired of hearin’ her for the night.” Zøg waved his hand dismissively. For once, Pendergast was hesitating with Zøg’s orders but took Bean by the shoulders anyway. The knight lead her back into the castle softly, his thumb rubbing circles and actually trying to calm her down for once, seeing as they both did not agree with the plan of sparing the Dragon. 

“You can make anythin’, eh?” Zøg rubbed the ginger mustache that ran along his face. His mind was still roaming on his son, Derek. “How about this?” Zøg pointed at Sky, “Make my son the best toy he’s seen in his life, and I’ll spare you from a beheading.”

The scientist hesitated.  _ A toy _ ? A toy was going to be the thing that split his life between life and death? He was a creator, but not that  _ kind  _ of creator. 


	3. Whisper to me softly.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's scattered with Derek's upcoming birthday party. Something unknown attacks Bean and both men rush in to help her.

Skybert was given a room. It wasn’t a comfortable room and was merely a small boxed room with a straw mattress that the Captain threw on the ground for him. Though most of the straw was scattered on the floor rather than inside the mattress. “You are not to leave this room without any supervised eyes—which will be here in the morning until night. Then, your door will be locked and they will be outside your door,” he was told before the door was slammed shut and locked behind him. 

_Guess it was his curfew, huh?_

“What a welcome,” the man mumbled under his breath and curled into the uncomfortable bed then went to sleep. 

The next morning, Sky was given permission to leave the room. As promised, he was assigned a guard that would follow him all day if he decided to go out. 

The man of inventions was handy, and all he needed was a pen and paper to get started on the ideas. But that was only when he was spewing out said ideas. Quite frankly, he was not. He lacked his morning coffee, and his paper was as empty after his brain after a long night. Besides, would it be enough to make a toy for the young prince in time for his birthday party that was coming up? All the ideas he noted down seemed impossible: anything that needed wood, and that had metal parts that were found only in his lab and not in this godforsaken land. Frustratingly, he would cross out each idea until the paper filled. 

Sky crumbled the parchment up and threw it at the wall.

Sighing, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, annoyed at his blank brain for a while. 

“Maybe I need a break,” he said to himself and knocked on the door, “I need a trip down to your marketplace if you wouldn’t mind,” he told the guard.

“Oh, is that so? What for?”

“Need some air, and some time out.”

There was no response.

Sky knocked on the door rapidly and annoyingly with his knuckles. “Hellllooo? Are you still there?”

“No. Go away.”

“I would say suit yourself, but I don’t find it suitable myself.” He pressed his back to the door and crossed his arms. “The guard captain with the singular eyeball promised that I was allowed out, as long as someone accompanies me. You’re that someone.”

Shortly, the door cracked open and the guard stood in the doorway. The man was tall will a beard peppered with grey hair. 

“I guess you’re my escort?”

The guard snorted.

“Not much for speech, eh?”

“I don’t have to speak to you. It ain’t my duty. Watching you is my duty. Ain’t lettin’ you out me sight.”

“Hm, so you’ll be watching me twenty-four hours then?”

“Right.”

“Hm… Sounds tiresome, actually. How will you rest up?”

“I don’t sleep. They don’t call me No _‘ole sleeper_ for nothin’.” The man stopped, realizing he had been talking right into Sky’s hand. “Now, get a move on.” With his helmeted head, he jerked it in the right direction, leading him out of the castle. 

The guard led the way. Sky had no idea where anything was really in this washed-up town. How did it function the way it did? Waste was thrown out the window from God-knows-where, and kids ran around in it, splashing away at the contaminated water. Sky had to groan when some of it splashed on his overalls. This was no place for him, and he could not wait to get the hell out of there after the party. Considering he made it past there. He really needed inspiration from this trip, and he needed it really bad. 

Though he was sure that they viewed him the same way, foreign and unusual. He was dressed nicer (though through his eyes, his dirty overalls were _not_ nice). Yeah, he saw the glares as he walked by. 

Sky stopped at a stand, but he could not tell what was being marketed. Presented to him by an older—and more delusional lady—were beads and the amulet sort of things. Something that would be seen as simple arts and crafts in his world.

Was Derek the one to wear something around his neck? Jewelry? No, of course not. This was more of a pagan society compared to him. The image of what he believed Derek ran through his mind—an average boy with average tastes. He wouldn’t like a necklace. Plus, he wouldn’t have technically made that toy, right? After thanking the woman, he rushed out of there before he could be persuaded further by her plans to sell him more gypsy junk.

“There’s nothing around here.”

“ _..._ ”

“Do you have some sort of shop that doesn’t sell junk? A blacksmith’s forge, perhaps?”

“ _..._ ”

“Man, you’re a big help.” Sky ran a hand through his hair and pushed it back. 

“I hope others. Not before I drink.” The guard stopped in front of a tavern, pointing to it with his thumb. “I’m going in, so you best come with me now. And no complaining.”

Sky raised his brow. “Drinking on the job, then?”

“Yeah, what of it?” 

“Seems very responsible of you, sir. But, can’t say I can object—as long as you buy me a pint.” 

“Sure thing, _your highness_. Whatever will keep your damn trap shut,” the guard mumbled under his breath and held the door open for the mechanic. 

Sky slipped in and approached the bar, sitting himself in front of the bartender. He touched the counted but grimaced immediately. The counter looked as though it had not been washed in ages, rendering his fingers to become sticky. _It appeared that the way Dreamlanders drank was uncivilized too_ , he thought to himself and wiped his hand on his side. 

Sky’s guard sat right next to him and tapped his fingers on the counter. “Two pints of ale, and make it spiffy. Got some work to do,” he ordered then turned his body so he faced Sky, keeping a close eye on him through the slits of his helmet.

The redhead knew but paid no mind to it, drinking his free ale when it was slid to him by the bartender that stared at him the entire time—slowly spitting into his glass to clean it; he hoped that he would not catch the plague. Well, it actually seemed better than being executed. The liquid spilled over his fingers before it would even reach his mouth due to a slight overflow. After tasting something bitter that left a strong aftertaste in the back of his throat, he wished it all spilled into his lap. No, he would never stop comparing everything in this land compared to his. He hated it all, and the fact that he would possibly spend the last of his days there. 

“Think you could ask him for a piece of paper? Forgot mine back in my room.”

“What do I look like? Your mother? Ask yourself.”

“Fine, sheesh.” Sky gulped more of his ale and pushed it aside. “Got a piece of paper?” he asked the bartender.

The bartender watched him, confused, but slid a paper to him anyway.

“Thanks.”

After wiping the counter the best that he could with his sleeve, Sky placed the paper in front of him. He took a thin writing utensil from his bag—which he called the _Writter_ —from his pocket and began scribbling on the paper. He could make a portable quill, but not something that would entertain a kid?

Some time had passed, and one ale turned into three, yet there were not even two words written on his paper. Just incoherent mumbles and doodles he could not decipher two minutes after writing them. He released a frustrated breath that he had been holding in his nose. 

“ _Goddmanit_.”

“Got yourself in a bit of pickle, eh?” The guard’s mouth rarely left his drink, unless he was buying a new one.

“Seems so.”

“What are you tryin’ to do there?”

“I’m supposed to make something for the Prince.”

“Yeah, I heard.” 

“But, I can’t get any damn ideas.”

“Sounds like it’s sucking for you,” the guard responded with an antipathic tone, having not cared for the conversation he initiated in the first place. 

“What an amazing _help_ you are.”

“ _..._ ”

“Thanks, again. I really mean it.”

Through all the laughing in the room, Sky could not concentrate. Each small giggle made him lose his train of thought. Rather than let his eyes focus on the paper, they were scattered all over the room. Men with harlots on their knees gambled their money while sharing drinks with people they were about to lose a game to. Some were singing in keys that were severely off-key and nearly made his ears bleed. Even if Sky was to come up with the simplest of ideas, this would not be a good place to come up with them. The man needed out of that environment. 

“I think it’s time to go,” he said and got up.

“Can I not finish my fucking drink?”

“Not unless you want me wondering the streets without you. I’m sure your captain wouldn’t like that.”

“...Fine…”

The guard flipped a couple of gold Zogs to the bartender and followed Sky out. 

The two must had been inside the tavern a long time because the streets were visibly busier than it had been hours ago. Everyone must be rushing to get their chores and shopping done. The stranger watched as more people poured waste out their window, giving it an even worse stench than I thought it would be.

“Remind me to make some sort of filter mask next time I decide to visit.”

“...” 

“This walk wasn’t as helpful as I thought it would be.”

“And what were ‘ou trying’ to git out it?” The guard walked beside him.

Sky gestured his hands in front of his face in dismay. “I dunno, something that would get the sparks rolling. Yet, I have none of my equipment here, and it’s nearly impossible for me to make something interesting.”

“Maybe you could find something in old Soccerio’s room,” the gruff guard suggested. “If it gets you to shut up with your damn pity, then I’ll give you that.” For a grumpy man, that actually seemed helpful to the other, “He’s got plenty of interesting tool in there for you to take a gander at.”

Sky thought on it, and a smile came to his face. “That actually sounds brilliant. I shall see if this man will let me gander away, then. If not, mind you look away for the few seconds that I explore the room.”

“ _Whatever_.”

The shopping spree of the others began to slow down, which Sky was grateful for. He came along a carpenter and bought a few of the tools he thought would be useful (using the budget given to him by King Zøg), and stuffed them into his bag. Seeing that he had even the smallest bit of supplies gave him more confidence: seen in the way that he walked down the streets, forgetting the awful smells and other things that he despised. At least until something brought him and his senses back to reality. 

Though, until _he_ showed up. 

The blonde knight stood down in the street. He was wearing a regular tunic and appeared off of duty due to his lack of armor: he was with a heavier-set brunette woman and fewer smaller men that Sky knew as elves. He observed them from afar with no intent to enter their conversation yet. 

“Can you stop bickering, you two?” Pendergast threatened and slapped the heads of both the elves, nearly knocking them to the ground, “Bean needs these things on the list, and we don’t exactly have time to argue about _colors_ here.”

“But, sir! Color’s really important, you see? It brings out the life in people. I really like the blue banter,” Bunty responded, running her fingers along the said banter, “It matches the color of the young prince’s complexion, you see?”

“Yes, I do, but I don’t think that’s exactly what the princess is looking for. Don’t you think it would mock him?”

“No! I don’t think.”

“ _THE GREEN BANTER IS PRETTIER! IT REMINDS ME OF A FRESH PINE TREE_!” The yellow-toned female elf by the name of Screamo screeched. 

Pendergast flinched. “Again, not—”

“I think the blue that Bunty suggested is more sophisticated,” The pink elf, Partio, suggested in a calmer and more regal tone. He took the fabric himself from the chambermaid and felt the silk himself, even licking it to taste the texture in a simple test to see if it was as perfect as they were believing it to be. Then, he nodded. “Yup, this one _has_ to be it! It even tastes perfect. See? Try for yourself” He offered the fabric to Pendergast, who shook his head and held out a hand.

“Dear God.” How did Pendergast get stuck with them all? “Okay, fine, fine. We’ll take the blue. But if Bean yells at you, then you will take it without any complaint, you got me?” he warned his group of idiots and took his coin purse from his pocket, giving the merchant the right amount of golden Zogs through muffled profanities. He took the banters draped it across his shoulder carefully.

“The party’s going to be just fine—” Partio chuckled. “Tomorrow, we start on desserts!”

“The elves are in charge of the desserts, right?” Bunty asked. 

“Hopefully not.” Pendergast adjusted the banter. “They’ll all be too small for any of us humans. And too sugary.”

“That’s what makes them so good!”

Ready to leave, Pendergast diverted away from the woman and the elves but was caught off guard when he saw Sky at the end of the street, unbudging. Had he been there the entire time? When Sky saw that the off-duty knight noticed him, he grinned and approached with his guard trailing behind him as if he were some entourage. “I see that you’re enjoying your time out,” he said and took Pendergast’s hand, forcing him to shake his. 

Pendergast pulled his hand away quickly. “Yes, I am off-duty. What of it, _Dragon_?” he confirmed it. 

“Looks like we’re both getting ready for the party then.” He poked the knight’s shoulder, right on the banter. “Would you like to return to the castle together?”

Annoyed already, Pendergast grabbed the banter and stepped back out of the grip of the Steamland man. “I would ask that you don’t touch what doesn’t belong to you, or I’ll cut your hands off for stealing.”

“ _Ohhhh_ , I thought you were off duty?”

“I am, but that doesn’t mean I won’t cut you for annoying me,” he threatened, “Whether I’m off duty or not, I’ll still do my duty—” 

“Excuse me, sir.” 

The rivalry glare between the two broke and fell upon an approaching merchant. It was an older man with… the darkest eyes both had ever seen? There were no whites seen whatsoever. He came closer, and the reek of death came with him. He reeked liked the bodies seen at the bottom of the plague pit. 

“You lovely gentleman seems decent. Can you help a vulnerable old man?”

Pendergast scrunched his face distastefully. He did not favor it when random beggars approached him on the streets. “What do you want?”

“Spare a golden Zøg?”

“What for?” the knight shot back immediately. 

“Some girly with white hair stole me famous batch of alcohol the other day. Set me back by a couple of Zogs. I have kids and can’t afford to go out of business.” He cupped his hands together and held them out to Pendergast, begging him.

Pendergast and Sky exchanged glances that said _Bean_. Sky grinned and elbowed him. “Looks like this is your problem now—Look, I gotta head back then. Got a deadline I have to meet in a couple of hours cause I don’t want to meet my end.” Clasping Pendergast’s shoulder, the man walked past but not without slamming his shoulder into his: just barely scraping by the banter. 

Pendergast would have punched him right there. Instead, he watched until Sky disappeared. He shook his head at the merchant and sighed. “Here. Take a couple, but don’t let me catch you lying to me and begging for more,” he warned and dropped a couple of the gold into the man’s waiting hands. That’s all that he would spend for the day. 

“Thank you, sir!” the merchant said excitedly before scampering away quickly. 

“Whatever. You’re welcome.”

Pendergast made his way back to the castle as well but taking his own route. He picked up a couple of supplies without the torture of the others with him—taking the party decorations to a supply closet he knew down in lower levels of the castle. It was really all that he needed to do that night, so he took to the barracks to rest after telling Bunty to inform Bean that they had purchased everything that Bean had asked for. He rested extra easy that night, knowing that helped ease the stress off of Bean’s shoulders, even if just the tiniest amount.

_For now._

However, the princess was still stressed with all the planning.

Princess Tiabeanie paced her room, biting her nails worst than Elfo biting into a candy cane.

How did her father and Oona do this each year for not only one child, but _two_? Let alone that one of them was a severe problem child. Even if they actually placed that burden on some other people, it was still a mystery to ponder about. 

Bean sat on her couch and crossed both her arms and her legs. She wore her gown, seeing it was late at night. She took her paper and reviewed the list. 

Earlier, she had sent Pendergast, Bunty, and a couple of elves to pick up some sort of cheap party supplies they could find in town. Too bad all the luxurious silks that were planned for normal parties were used up by now, eh? Half of them were somehow destroyed by _yours truly_ in one of her drunken hazes. 

No wonder why she was a mess. 

Bunty, upon her return, informed of the supplies that had been picked up earlier. There were a few things she could cross off the list. 

Speaking of which, she forgot to do that. 

Making a quick dip of her quill (that had been left on the table for her convenience), she marked the items off the list and smiled to herself. Just a little stress lifted from her cumbersome shoulders. “We got this,” she mumbled to herself, “I’ve got this.”

After she placed the paper down, she yawned. The back of her throat was dry and itchy. “Let’s get some water and head back to bed, kay?” She told herself and checked on her bed for Luci: who had come to her earlier when she was majorly stressed. He was also a comfort that drove away her night terrors about her mother. Truly, he was her emotional support demon. He was curled on her left pillow, fast asleep. 

Luci would not notice her brief absence. 

Times like this, she often thought of her mother. 

Bean had no vivid memories of her mother, but sometimes she imagined what it would feel like if she had been there growing up—but also not crazy at the same time. They could have had that bond between them where Dagmar would bring her water and soothe her to sleep. However, a pang of certain guilt ate at her. Dagmar would never do such a thing for her daughter, even as a little girl. 

Feeling a little bit vulnerable as she ventured out to fetch her a glass of water, she rubbed her arms. It was a pretty odd night to be cold. 

_Understandable, seeing that she did not notice the thing in the shadows, lurking and stalking her._

She took a glass from the kitchen and used it in the well in the courtyard (seeing it had been cleaned recently). She sipped on the glass, content with her wetting throat. 

“ _Do you think they care?_ ” As though someone was behind her, there was a whisper in her ear. There was an abrupt cold draft.

Bean swung around. “Who was that?”

“ _You see the way that they say to you_ . _Even to your face._ ”

“ _You’re not wanted._ ”

“ _They sing your name in blood-curdling screams._ ”

“Who's there? What’s going on?”

In every direction she looked, there was nothing.

The lights around her that were lit for the guards when they passed for duty, went out with a gust of wind that blew Bean’s white hair in her face. She rushed to move the strings of hair behind her ears but failed. The voices traveled with the wind, whispering all around her and through her body: the vibrations against rattled her bones and shocked her; her joints nearly locking in place.

The princess gripped her hair until her scalp was sore, seeing as it was the only way to keep her vision centered and controllable.

Bean had no idea what was going on. 

_Maybe it was Dagmar._ The mere thought of it sent her heart racing. 

“Mom if that’s you—go away before I kick your ass.”

“ _Your dear mother isn’t here._ ”

“ _She doesn’t care enough to be._ ”

“ _Besides… didn’t you kill her?_ ”

Bean gulped. For some reason, that dug right under her skin.

The tornado of air calmed down, blowing a single draft directly at her from between two pillars in front of the princess. It was strong enough to knock the glass out of her hand and nearly beat the princess to the ground. She kept her stance, however, and dug her heels into the ground.

“Show yourself, you coward!” She screamed into the void of nothingness. Her hair whipped around wildly and she held her arms in front of her, trying to block the draft. 

What a _stupid_ mistake. 

The wind abruptly stopped, allowing Bean to catch her breath. She huffed. “Bring it on,” she threatened. 

There was a moment of silence where only her laborious breath could be heard. 

Then, without a warning, something from the shadows pounced at the princess. It was faster than she had ever seen, and it knocked her to the ground with the blink of an eye. Bean, astonished, did not even have time to blink before the same thing lunged at her from behind, snapping her head forward and sending her hair flying over her face: there was a tingle on the back of her neck that became a full-on sing. She pushed her hair back with one hand again. The other one touched her neck that stung at contact. Then she saw the blood, her eyes wide open. 

Bean gasped. Did something bite her?

“Try and hurt me again, you bastard, and I’ll kill you.”

“ _Funny that you mentioned that._ ”

“ _Thank you for offering us such a delicious meal._ ”

The shadow lunged at her again. She saw it this time: it was shadowy and had no eyes. When it unhinged its jaws, there were visible pearly whites that sunk into her forearm as she used it to block her face again. 

Pain worse than a dog tearing into her flesh seared through her body, burning her to the core. The princess screamed, kicking her bare feet into the air. From the glass she’d dropped, pricks of pain stabbed her in the behind and lower back. Pain was coming from everywhere, and for the first time, Bean submitted. 

Lights from the nearby tower flickered on and angry people stuck their heads out the window to complain. But then they saw her. The princess was pinned to the ground, and something was attacking her. 

“Oh my God!”

“The princess is being attacked!”

“Someone call the guards—Quick!”

The voices drowned out in Bean’s own ears—her own screaming was loud enough. 

The shadowy beast moved it’s head off of her arm and tore into her chest. Her nightgown was torn and her breast bitten into. She tried to dig her nails into the creature, but she could not touch the transparent thing with her own fingers. Yet, it could harm her, and soon enough the tips of her white hair stained with her own crimson blood. Before she knew it, her entire body was smeared with that same red liquid. 

But this princess was not going down without a fight.

Feeling around behind her, Bean grabbed handfuls of dirt before she pricked her hand on one of the shards of glass. She squeezed it, finding the pain hurt far less than the jaws ripping into her. She branded the broken weapon and lifted it. “Die!” she hissed and slammed it into the empty space above its jaw: it was a mere guess that the glass could penetrate its skin. It threw its head back, releasing Bean to release a roar. Despite the stinging pain, the princess pulled herself to her feet and limped away as fast as she could. 

Three of her father’s knights rushed onto the scene. 

“Princess, are you alright?” One grabbed her forearm. She hissed in pain.

“Yes, I’m fine.” She tore away from him. Her body was admittedly shaking, but that was it. 

“Stay back, and we’ll slay the beast.”

“Yeah, you do that. I’ll be right here.”

Normally, she would have argued, but there was no arguing after what she had just been through. Looking down at her body, she knew her own limitations. A part of her was angry, but another part of her was scared of the unknown that was happening. 

The guards ran to where Bean had been. 

Snapping out of its agonized howling phase, the shadowy creature snarled at the knights and darted back into the darkness. 

“Where did it go?” the guard hissed. 

“I can’t see it.”

“There!” He pointed, “I saw a barrel move.” They raced toward it, leaving Bean in the spot to hold onto her arm. Both her gown and skin were peeled, hanging a little off her body. Though, her forearm took most of the damage—her breast still intact luckily. She looked down at both wounds, worried. They needed to be dressed, and now. Even if she survived the attack, she fretted about the aftermath and the medical attention that she would need. 

A scream tore through the air, followed by a guard flying limply. He landed at the princess’ feet, dead with fear the last thing painted on his face along with blood. 

Growling, the princess grabbed his sword and brandished it with her good arm. “Show yourself!” she hissed through her buck teeth. She spun around, checking all the directions around her. It could be anywhere.

“You don’t scare me.”

“ _Oh, but we should._ ”

The other guard flew through the air, dead as well. 

Princess Bean believed herself to be alone. When another gust of wind tore through her hair, she readied her sword evenly vertical between her eyes. She sought to keep her eyes open through the rough wind that tossed the girl’s hair everywhere. Through the ridge of it, she saw that same black mass and was ready to stab it when it attacked. 

However, her body was tackled to the ground as the creature flew past and collided harshly into the wall, shaking it. 

Pendergast held the princess by the waist before he grabbed her sword, wielding at the creature. “Don’t worry, princess! I got you,” he said protectively and held his arm out to shield her. 

The wind died down, replaced with whispers that only Bean could hear. She covered her ears and tried to block them out. “ _You’re pathetic._ ”

“ _You’re useless._ ”

“ _You’re just a pawn to sell off._ ”

“ _Give in to your vulnerabilities, Princess Tiabeanie. We’ll be back when you do,_ ” the voice whispered. Then everything was gone, leaving the knight captain and the princess to breathe by themselves. 

Pendergast waited, but the shadows were already gone, and the torches lit once again. He wished that he had both eyes, knowing that his blindside could be taken advantage of. Yet, when he noticed that there was nothing, he turned to tend to the princess. By then, the other guards had entered the courtyard, ready to fight the fled creature. Sky’s guard joined when he heard the commotion, with the man not that far behind him: Sky stared directly at the bloodied figure across the courtyard. 

“Are you alright, Bean?”

Bean covered her breast with her gown before Pendergast could see.

“No, I’m not alright. I’m hurt pretty fucking bad.”

“I’ll get you back to the room, and we will have someone tend to your wounds.” Carefully between her groans of pain, he scooped her into his arms and rushed her back to her room. 

“Careful!”

“I’m trying, Bean!”

Sky eyed them until they disappeared around the corner. His guard was too busy, giving him the opportunity to slip away, unnoticed. So that’s exactly what he did.

Pendergast kicked open Bean’s door, taking her to her bed. Luci jumped up, like a scared cat and hissed, “What the—What the hell?!” He ran to Bean’s side as Pen laid her down on the bed, leveraging her head with her pillow. The princess grunted in pain. “What the hell happened, _Sir Captain_?”

“Something attacked her out in the courtyard.”

“Well, no duh. Damn, Bean, you look like hell—” 

“Can you both shut up? You’re not helping by calling me names.” 

“My apologies, madam—” 

Pen grabbed the nearest sheet he thought would be fine to bandage her wounds. “We’ll get you feeling good.”

Just then, her door kicked up and in came a Zøg in his own nightshirt that resembled a nightgown. “What the hell happened to my daughter?!” It was impossible to tell if he was worried or angry for his daughter as he stormed over and checked on her: after he had heard the screams, and then the news of his daughter—he feared the worse. “Bean, can you hear me?” he cupped her cheek.

“Yeah, dad. I’m perfectly fine.” Bean knocked his hand away. But the sudden movement caused her pain that told her father that she was not fine. 

“What did this to ya?”

“I don’t know—” Bean tried to remember but the only thing that her mind was focused on was her current pain. “I can’t think, dad. Can you give me some space?”

“Fine then... But I want four guards right outside her door,” Zøg told Pendergast, red and furious as he jammed his finger into the younger man’s chest. 

“Of course, sir— The finest. I will also station myself there. Many more will be patrolling the perimeter of the castle as well.”

“Good. I don’t want another damn attack—Whatever it did, it killed two men and hurt my daughter. I’d ring it’s neck myself if I wasn’t so fat—” Giving his daughter one last glance, Zøg’s face fell. She appeared to be in a lot of pain. What was a father to do? Bean was a strong girl, she could get through this. “I have to go back to bed. But I’ll check on yas in the morning.”

“I’m fine, dad.”

“Of course you are.”

“I will send some guards to escort you back. Can you watch her momentarily, cat?” Pendergast asked.

“Course, _sir_ ,” Luci said sarcastically, though he took the situation seriously. He jumped next to his friend’s head. “Bean, what happened?”

“Look, can people stop asking me that same damn question and get me some goddamn booze? I’m really hurting here.” Admitting the last part, she relaxed as much as she could. However, the moment that there was silence was the moment when she could really feel all the aches and pain drive throughout her body. 

“Sheesh. Maybe I’ll run down to the bar for ya.”

The door creaked open. Luci prepared for an attack, but Sky walked in with an armful of herbs and such. 

Bean turned her head to the door. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“I saw the trouble,” he started and stepped inside, “You looked pretty beat up, so I thought I would help.” He walked over to the edge of the bed and placed down his supplies on her nightstand. He grabbed a rag and did a bunch of stuff with a bowl and herbs that Bean did not quite understand. “I’m not a physician, and nor do I have anything from back on Steamland: but these collections of herbs I found in the kitchen mixed together should prevent any infection while you rest.” 

“What?”

“Hm?” Sky looked to her as he mixed the plants together in a mortar and pestle. “Something wrong?”

“Why are you helping me?”

“Don’t mistake this as anything nice,” he pointed out, “I’m doing this so your father doesn’t get pissed the next few days and do something with my life he might regret. I gain more if you live.” He finished the mixing and took the rag. He was about to clean the blood off one of the small scratches on her thighs, but she reached out and slapped him. Sky was shocked for a moment, stepping backward. He held his cheek, which stung as red as one of her wounds.   
“I don’t care. Don’t ever touch me again!” She shot a finger at him. The atmosphere between them grew tense, and every movement was some sort of explosive. Sky’s eyes fell upon Bean’s fingers as she moved to fix her gown, which was shredded threads. He huffed.

“You slap pretty well, princess.”

“Yeah, and I thought you would have learned that by now.”

Pendergast lingered in the doorframe before he entered. He heard slap and that was about it “Any problems here, princess? I can take the bastard to the prison cell if he’s bothering you. Not sure why he’s out of line and in your room anyways.” 

“I brought Bean a little concoction for her wounds.” Sky gestured to the nightstand with his head. He dropped his hand from his face. “It works best if the skin is clean before the application. Leave it to dry overnight before cleaning it off in the morning and repeat. And don’t worry.” He grinned ear from ear. “I made it all from herbs I found in the castle’s own kitchen and nothing from my land.”

“Hmm, yes. Thank you,” Pendergast said but not very thankfully. He pointed to the door with his thumb. “Now get out of here and get back to your room before your damn guard notices.”

Sky made an amused noise. “If you say so. Get a good night’s sleep, Bean. Good night.”

When Sky left, Pendergast cautiously approached the bowl of herbs. He sniffed it carefully and used his pinky to taste it. It was a mix between something bitter and sweet. 

“What are you doing, Pendergast?” Bean questioned. Her eyes were droopy, but she was still awake. 

“Tasting the herbs, princess. I would hate that there was another person in this castle trying to hurt you in some way again. How are you feeling?” He set the herbs back down and waited for them to kick in. He tasted a bit of Yarrow, so Sky was probably telling the truth and the knight would live. He took a rag. “Need help?”

“I can do it myself.” Bean took the rag and gradually began to clean herself. 

Pendergast looked her up and down. “I suppose that you will need a new gown.” He stood with his back to her. “Where does Bunty keep your clothes?” He lingered around her room.

Luci jumped down from Bean’s bed and climbed Pendergast’s shoulder. “Hmm, it’s right over here.” He pointed out for the knight. “Though it could also be that way.” He pointed another direction with his tail, making the man frown tiredly at him. “What? I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”

“If you’re not going to help me, then get off my shoulder.” He flicked him off. 

Luci hit the ground and rubbed his head. “Gah! Okay, fine, fine—” 

Luci scrambled to his feet and lead Pendergast to her wardrobe, giving Bean the privacy to clean her body and remove her ruined clothes. She threw them off the side of the bed: her sheets would have to be thrown out too in the morning. Pendergast grabbed the first gown he saw and when he walked back to Bean, bringing the divider with him to give her some decency. Luci grabbed the gown and jumped on the other side of the divider, landing on the bed. He presented her with the gown.

“Here ya go, Bean. The finest silk there is.”

“One second. I’m getting this stuff on my body first,” the girl said and spread the herbs on her wounds. The spread stung at first but then numbed away the pain long enough for her tense muscles to relax. “Damn… it really did a number on me. And I guarantee that I won’t get out much after this.”

“Maybe it’s a good excuse for you to stay in your room then, and out of trouble.”

“Shut up, Pendergast.”

“What even was it that you saw?” Luci asked.

“I don’t know… It was all a blur. It was like some sort of shadow. Like it was a—” Bean looked to the divider then back to Luci, whispering close to his ear, “A _demon_.”

Luci frowned. A demon, eh? “Sounds like my expertise… Maybe I should investigate the scene. Will ya be alright without me?”

“Hm, for now.” Bean finished the spread and took the gown, pulling it over her head carefully. Her body ached but she would not let that get in her way. “I’m decent, Pen!” she called out. The divider moved as Luci jumped down from the bed. “If you find anything, let me know.”

“Sure thing. You will be the _first_ to know. Goodnight, you two.” The demon left the room, leaving the knight with the princess. 

“If you’re feeling fine, then I believe that you can get your beauty sleep.” The Captain pushed the divider back into place and returned to the girl. He sat on Bean’s bed, taking the bowl from her hands to lay it back on the nightstand. “And I’m going to be right here the entire night. How does that sound?” He looked deep into those puzzling blue eyes that struggled to stay open. “Don’t hesitate to wake me up.” 

“Just stay on that side of the bed and keep to yourself.”

“Sure can, princess. If you need me, I’ll be a few inches away—and the guards are right out there.”

“Goodnight, Pendergast.”

“Goodnight, Bean.”

Bean slipped under her covers. Shortly, she was fast asleep. After removing his boots and shirt, Pendergast laid on top of the blanks and soon joined her. 


	4. A Snack of Today's Choice is Luci

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the attack, the party has come. Only it does not go as planned.

Last night was hell. This incoming morning was much worse. She was awake much longer than Pendergast, curled into his back with her arms draped around his torso. Despite the warmth and comfort he provided, they weren’t enough to wipe away the scars both on her mind and her body. With a clearer mind, she saw the memories flash before her mind. She remembered the teeth white as pearls as they were right in her face. Those same teeth were stained red when they sunk into her flesh. 

Bean gripped Pendergast’s bare chest and buried her nose into the back of his neck. He smelled like a barn, but it was a welcoming scent for her. She liked it better than the lavish scents in the castle. Her grip on him became tighter. 

Pendergast shifted under her grip; she felt the muscles move underneath her face. He ran a hand over hers and patted them comfortably. “Grip any tighter princess and you’ll pull both my nipple and chest hair right off.” His voice sounded tired, seeing as he had just woken up after a long night. 

“Oh, sorry.” Bean loosened her grip. 

“You’re fine, princess.”

Freed, Pendergast shifted his body, now facing the princess. He looked into her eyes. The situation probably would have been awkward if they had not done this before.  _ Slept together.  _ So when he ran his fingers through her silky white hair, she did not curse as much at him and closed her eyes contently. It was an inviting feeling after all that had happened. 

Tender grazings of his fingers ran down her forearm. “How are you feeling?” His hands stopped rear her wrist.

“I still feel like shit. But I think what Sky gave me actually worked. My body doesn’t sting as much as last night.”

The sound of the other male made the man groan. Bean noticed and chuckled at his reaction. “We should still get you a proper healer today. I don’t know how long the effects of the plants will be,” he said and sat up, rolling his shoulders and popping his neck. “I’ll send for Bunty to give you a bath and apply more ointment. Meanwhile, I have duty, but I’ll somehow get someone to come check on you for further treatment.” He tried to stand. 

Bean snatched his wrist in time and pulled his arm down. He dropped back onto the bed. “Wait! Hold your horses, Pen. Stay a bit longer.”

Pendergast carefully pulled his arm away so as to not hurt the “fragile” princess. “I’m afraid not. Duty calls and I must attend to it.” Bean watched as he pulled his tunic on over his head. Then he pulled his boots on. “But I will come to your need if you need me, princess.” There was a certain look that the knight gave her—that gave her butterflies for some reason. For now, she would not protest. 

“Fine… Hey, have Bunty send me breakfast while you’re at it too, alright?”

“Of course.” And with a smile that Bean matched, Pendergast left and closed the door tight behind him. He told the guards to keep a close eye and ear on her and at everything around. After last night, he knew that he would have a long and busy day. He left Bean with a lot on his mind, and her with a lot more. 

For the rest of the week, there was no attack and no evidence that there had been one at all: all except the marks left behind Bean’s skin. Zøg, as always, swept it under the rug and continued on with his life even if others could not. Sky’s medicine worked perfectly and prevented any infection. The best physician treated her and within a day or so, she was able to stand and walk around. Derek’s party was an excuse for her to stay in her room for once, working from the comfort of her couch with Elfo while Luci brought the occasional beer. Even if the demon nudged her, she refused to look away from her work, resembling the mishap that had happened in Dankmire  _ before  _ the drink. 

Pendergast searched all around the castle, but nothing remained of the beast who attacked. He and his fellow guards blocked off the courtyard and investigated it: there was no trace of footprints or blood that was not Bean’s. It left them all to scratch their heads in confusion (and worry: particularly for the Captain), and up their guard count for patrol. The Captain wanted to look at Sky, seeing as it only happened when they took him in—but he had an alibi. He had never left the room during the active fight. 

Sky still was isolated in his room, working and tinkering with his many plans for a toy. No one had heard from him for the entire week, and he only came out around night. 

That was until the party day came. 

Bean’s nerves were on the fritz. She felt them clear down to her wrists and palms. She found herself eagerly scratching at them constantly. Sky’s life was on the line and he was nervous too, and probably more than the princess. Having had never encountered such a grave deadline, this was the first time he had such surging anxiety through his chest. Bean wanted to throw a formidable party for her brother, and Sky was to provide an exquisite gift to bring to the party. Both were somewhat in the same boat. 

The stressed princess was tucked away in her room, pacing the carpet in her new dress that covered most of her scars. It was a lime green with sleeves that matched. What if the decorations weren’t put up properly? Or the food somehow went stale? By now, her nails were nothing but nubs and she felt pain when she scratched her palm with those nubs.

Luci called her wreck before he had left that morning, and rightfully so. 

Yet, she had to thank her two friends great for helping her tremendously the past week. Elfo was greeting the guests inside right as she spoke, waiting for her arrival. Only she had to wait for her escort.

There was a knock on the door. There he was, but she did not notice.

“Oh god, what about the venison dips? What if it goes bad?”

There was another knock. 

“And oh god, the  _ streamers _ .”

“Bean? Are you in there?”

“Huh?”

Without knocking a third time, the door opened and Sky entered. Bean, with her arms crossed, eyed him over her shoulder. “Ever heard of knocking? I could have been getting dressed. What’re you doing here, Sky?”

The male held something that was covered by a dark-stained handkerchief. Bean eyed it but tried to not show much curiosity for it. The redhead approached, where he stood nose-to-nose with the princess. “Could you take a look at this, princess?” 

“What for? And where’s your stupid guard?”

“Nevermind him, he’s right outside your door. It would just ease my nerves if you would look at what I have to show you.”

“Fine then, show me.”

He uncovered the mysterious object, revealing an object that made her gasp: it was an eloquently carved wooden owl. “I made this as a small prototype for Derek’s present, but now I have no idea what to do with it.”

Bean eyed it. At first, she had been interested, but… it was simply a wooden owl. It wasn’t really that exciting. She crossed her arms, her body language telling him that he needed to amuse her. “Oh, really? That so?” She scoffed. “It looks pathetic, really.”

A smile crossed his lips. She did not like it. But not yet. “Well, good thing I made it do more than sit pretty in my palm. Want to see what it truly does?” He asked.

“Uh… Not really.”

“Suit yourself, princess. Look away if it pleases you. Or, maybe you could take it.”

“What?”  _ Was this guy stupid? _

Sky chuckled and took her hand, placing the owl in it. “Hold it still,” he warned her and when her hands sat still, he moved the wings aside, revealing something red underneath. The princess’s eyebrow raised when he pressed the weird red object in the center. The owl’s head popped up, shocking the girl. Quickly, her hands moved out from underneath the owl, and she was about to drop it. However, Sky was quicker and caught it before it could hit the ground. With a soft chuckle that told her not to worry, he held it up close to her hands once again.

The owl’s head bobbed up and down along with its wings, making small repeated hooting noises before it stopped and returned to its normal stance. 

Bean’s voice caught in her throat. She gulped and licked her lips. “What was that…?” She mumbled, awed. 

“Just a small version of what your brother will be receiving tonight.” 

“Wow…”

“Do you like it?”

“Hmm… Kinda,” she responded and tilted her head to the right then the left, examining the item. She then touched the button and watched it do its thing again. When it stopped again, her breath hitched when she noticed Sky’s eyes were on hers. 

Gradually, his hands folded over hers, placing the item in hers then holding them. “Then, you may keep them, Bean. Care to join me at the party, then?” He offered his arm.

“Gladly.” She smiled.

The birthday bells rang, signaling the beginning of the birthday party for the prince and future king of dreamland. Pendergast had one more task before the party and it was to bring the prince to the throne room. He watched the halls, noticing how absent they were of the lives of the servants due to the catering that they would be working. He could hear the echoes of his steps bounce off the walls. 

Pendergast stopped in front of the Prince’s room and knocked. “Sire? Are you ready?”

“I’m not going…”

The Captain rushed to press his ear against the door, listening to the soft voice of the Prince, catching his words just in time. He frowned and without knocking again, he opened the door and walked right in. There was a weird sense, that he had done this with Bean when she was misbehaving before, but not for the well-behaved Prince. Derek was seated on his bed with his back to the door: he wasn’t even dressed properly for the party and played with his toys. Surely he would have forgiven Bean by now…?

What the Princess had done to her brother had been terrible, even for Pendergast’s tastes. Now, more than just one person was suffering from her consequences. 

“Derek, where are the handmaids? I thought they would lay your party clothes out for you?”

“I’m not going.” Derek picked fuzz off one of his toys and laid it down, picking up another to do the same thing.

“You have to. It’s your party.”

“So? Mum didn’t throw it for me… I’m sure that dad didn’t put in any effort to throw me one. No. I don’t want to go.”

“You have to.”

Had Zøg planned the party, such a thing would be true. But the situation was different. The knight chewed on his lip. He stepped further into the room and closed the door. He approached Derek’s closet and pulled out clothes he thought would be suitable. He picked out an outfit he personally would wear: an elegant white tunic and black slacks. Derek had been watching him the entire time. 

“What are you doing?” Derek asked as Pendergast draped the clothes over his forearm and approached him. The knight placed the clothes down next to the pouting prince and stepped away, moving his arms behind his back. This was not his place, but he had to do something. Bean worked very much hard to throw the party for the Prince, and there was a part of him that wanted to see Bean do the right thing and feel satisfied with herself. 

Derek merely eyed the party tunic and pants. 

“I want you to get ready for the party,” Pendergast responded, “Because your father didn’t throw the party—Bean did.”

Derek’s eyes widened. “Why would she do that?”

“She feels bad for what she did, Derek. She’s given up being drunk the past few nights to plan, prepare, and host this party on the behalf of you—for your birthday. You could do her the favor and at least show up.” The knight ran a hand down his hair while he was thinking of the princess, fixing any of the possible loose strands that could be sticking out. “No need to forgive her… But please go. She’s making an effort.”

Uncomfortably, Derek shrunk back. Still, the embarrassment from that day from when he threw up on his father was haunting him. He ran his hands over his face, even pushing back the hair that was covering his face. The decisions ran through his mind once more before he decided on what he wanted to do. 

A little part of him did not want to be trapped up as he had been when everyone had been stonified… but how could he face the people after what he had done? Especially to his father… even if he had been drunk and had not noticed it at the time, that beat red anger scared Derek down to his core. 

“Okay.” The Prince lowered his hands after careful judgment. “I’ll go. But after the cake, I want to come back to my room.”

“Of course, sire.” Pendergast smiled. “I’ll wait for you out in the halls then, and shall escort you to the party. Be quick. It’s not a party without the party boy,” he told him before stepping outside. After dressing quickly, Derek joined him and the two walked slowly to the throne room. 

Because of the elves, the throne room looked… very much different than any other party that had been thrown that day. The decorations were a little smaller, but still very much elegant and loved by the people: they caught Derek’s attention when he stepped into the room.  _ Woah _ .

“Do you like them?”

“Yeah!”

“The elves prepared them for you.”

Pendergast entered the room, arms folded behind his back. “Now bringing you the reason that we are celebrating today.  _ Prince Derek of Dreamland. _ ” He waved his arm presentably toward the Prince as he stepped aside for the young lad to join. Everyone began to applaud for him. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but Derek felt comforted by the sound of them clapping for him and giving him smiles. He cracked one of his own and joined the party next to his father in his throne. It felt nice to be comforted.

“It’s so good to see ya son,” Zøg hummed happily. He was watching the party with caution but an overall relaxed behavior with his guards behind him. “Out of that room and here—You know, Bean actually did a good job on this birthday party for ya. A damn good job compared to my shitty work over the years.” 

“Yeah…” Derek picked at the small stuffed animal. It was the only one that Pendergast said that he could bring. He saw his sister enter the room with a man with red hair. He said nothing about her and resumed his conversation with his father, “Why do you have so many guards behind you, father?”

Oh yeah, no one had told Derek what had happened. Better to… not let him worry about it. “Well, ah—It’s just to be safe, I guess? Maybe Pendergast wanted them to party too.” He shrugged, basically lying to his son without any regrets.

“Oh, I see.”

“Heh, yeah. How are ya feelin’?”

“Just fine. Pendergast was awfully kind this morning and helped me out of bed.”

“Hmmm, that’s great. He’s a good lad.”

“Do you think that he’s good enough to marry Bean?” 

The random question caught Zøg off guard. He coughed up on his wine glass and set it aside. “I, uh, I dunno. I never thought about it, actually. You saw what happened the last two times when we tried to marry your sister off. But, hey, enough about Bean! It’s your birthday today, not her’s. Go out there and find yerself a harlot that will let you dance on her toes.” 

Zøg slapped his son’s back, knocking him out of the throne and into the wide-open world where Derek felt very much off and secluded from the others. His first birthday: alone and without his mother. 

Seeing the faces of the overjoyed party guests, Bean was joyous as she was escorted inside by Sky: giving her a happy heartthrob. She marveled at the lights that Pendergast and the elves worked on for the past couple of days. 

“Hi, I’m Elfo!” The small elf waved at Bean from the floor. “Hi, Bean! Welcome to the party!”

“Elfo, my man!” Bean exclaimed, “Good to see you—I’ve hardly seen you this week.”

“Been a busy man, Bean,” Elfo said with a bit of a cocky tone, adjusting his collar in a professional manner. Then his eyes fell onto Sky, who still had his arm linked with Beans. “Um, what’s  _ he  _ doing here?”

“You know, you could have just asked me yourself. I came here for the wine! What else would I be here for? My taste for Dreamland parties is not so great—but at least the wine is great,” Sky remarked sarcastically, “ _ No _ . I have a gift for the party boy that I need to give, so I was obviously invited. 

Elfo crossed his arms. “Hmmm, will you be lingering here with Bean the entire night, or will you try to mingle with others?”

“Mmmm,” Sky hummed, “Well, nevermind that, buddy. Looks like you have some more work to do,” he said and pointed out other incoming guests. He winked to the elf as he led Bean away, “Have a good night.”

As promised, Sky was leading the Princess to the table in the hope he could dispatch himself from her presence. Though that did not go as plan as Pendergast saw the princess and immediately walked over with two wine glasses in his hands. 

Bean removed her arm Sky’s and approached the knight. She scoffed at his choice of formal attire of green and white—at least it was better than the red pirates uniform he had worn at the ball. She crossed her arms and smirked at him. “You can make a party look amazing, but you can’t manage to get yourself to?” she teased. 

“What’s wrong with my outfit?” Pendergast looked down at him. “It was the best tunic I had.”

“You look like a dork, you know?” 

“I can’t fathom why.”

“First of all, you could have done without the frill. It doesn’t go with your hair,” she pointed out.

“I didn’t know you had a secret sense for fashion.” The sides of his lips turned up. He stepped closer and gave her the glass of wine. “I knew you would want one of these right away, so I got you one to save you the trip.” 

“How kind of you.” Bean chuckled and took the glass, sipping it. 

Sky watched the two momentarily and blinked. “ _ Hmm, didn’t think I could be forgotten so easily _ ,” he said to himself and looked around the throne room. The blue banters he had watched the same knight buy a week ago hung from the chandelier. From behind the buffet table, Luci played his bartender role well and served the party guests. The music was simple and sweet. What this  _ really  _ a good party? He could not help but still feel bored. Seeing as he no longer was in the presence of the princess, he was free to do what he wanted to do.  _ But why did he not want to? _

“You know,” Sky began and moved closer to the Princess and placed an arm around her shoulders, “The next time that you throw a party, I could help. I know a few cool things to do with lights to make them change colors every few seconds.”

“Wow, really?” Bean perked up.

Pendergast blinked at Sky confusingly. 

“Yup. We call it  _ Disca  _ back in Steamland. Or, at least, I do. It’s very famous with the party communities.”

“Woah… That sounds awesome, actually. But I think Pendergast and the elves did a good job with this one.”

“Thank you, Princess.” The pride swelled in Pendergast’s chest.

“Woah, what if we— You know made a group of people who planned parties like this?” the Princess suggested with her eyes widening excitingly. “And like, called it the party committees or something. That way we can forever make parties as badass as this one.”

“Sounds like a plan, Princess. Remind yourself to invite me to that  _ committees  _ then.” The hand that had been wrapped around Bean’s shoulder, patted it and removed it from her shoulder. Pendergast had been watching the entire time with a blank expression though his insides were frowning. “Have a nice party, Bean, you deserve it.” Sky winked and walked off. 

“You too, Sky. Oh, and don’t forget to try the dessert table!” she called out.

Pendergast twirled his glass, having not had a sip of the alcohol yet. “Seems like you warmed right up to him. You hated him just a few days ago.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. He can actually be cool when he’s not a dick. Kinda like you?”

“I beg your pardon? I’m not a dick. I just do my job.”

“Yeah, and it does make you sorta-of a dick for that.”

“Was I dick for protecting and sleeping with you the other night?”

A couple who had been dancing nearby gave them a questionable expression before they moved on. Pendergast did not look at them once. Instead, his eye was down on Bean, challenging her to say more subconsciously. 

Bean frowned at him. “No, you weren’t. But you’re starting to be one _ right now _ . I’m suspecting that you’re a dick when you’re off duty too.”

“A dick wouldn’t help you throw a party when something attacked you,” Pendergast said defensively, “I helped you, Bean, and I’m not a dick.”

“I think the more you say it, the more you’re trying to convince yourself that you’re not! But you are, Pendergast, and that just proves my point.” Stubbornly, Bean made an angry noise at him. “Look, I don’t have to listen to you. I’m having a good time tonight, and I’m going to forget what happened to me the other night.” She shoved the empty glass back into his hands and stormed off. Pendergast would have chased her to say more: but just like her, he was stubborn as hell and disappeared into the crowd of the party. 

The small foods gradually disappeared as the party descended into its darkest hours. All the guests arrived, giving Elfo the time to hang out around with his two pals: Bean sticking around Luci and Elfo at the buffet table. She didn’t even notice that there were eyes on the back of her head—both good and evil. The jokes were crazy that night and the party wild. Even Zøg was having a good time, joking around with his son and whoever approached his throne. 

It was time for Sky to present his gift for Derek. 

After having been hiding in the crowd after his argument with Bean, Pendergast came out. He took a formal stand in front of Zøg and faced the party guests. “Now announcing the highlight of the party. A special gift for Prince Derek. Presenting Gunderson.”

From the sidelines, Sky pushed a cart to the bottom of the steps. All eyes were on him, but his was on the cloth draped around a weirdly shaped object. He turned to Derk and greeted himself, “My name is Skybert Gunderson, and it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m proud to present…” He gripped the red cloth and yanked it off. “Your present, your highness.”

Bean gasped. 

It was the same exact thing that he had shown her earlier! But it was not wooden. It looked like a real stuffed owl with a fuzzy outside.

“What does it do?” Zøg frowned. He was not as amused as the others in the room, including his own guests. “It looks hideous.”

“I think I like it.”

“No, you don’t, son. Can someone get rid of him?” Zøg waved his hand. “His execution will be in the morning.”

Sky’s face fell. “My what? Pardon me sir, but I don’t think your son had to the opportunity to check to see if he likes it himself.”

“I do like it—”

“I don’t care if he does or not. I don’t want him to carry that thing around with him around the castle. People will think he’s some kind of weird bird person… We don’t need that as a king,” Zøg mumbled under his breath, “Pendergast, take him away.”

“Right away, sir.”

“Wait!” Sky stepped away from the rapidly approaching knight. “Can’t he please at least check it out?”

“No.”

“Please, father?”

“I said no! Look, when I asked you to make something for my son, I was thinking just another stupid stuffed animal. Not something like this.” He gestured his hand up and down at the feathered owl invention. “I don’t like it, and I don’t like you.”

“You haven’t even seen what it can do—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Pendergast stated and grabbed Sky’s arm, twisting it behind his back. “Now, let’s go.” He escorted Sky out of the room.

“Wait!” 

Bean pushed her way through the crowd, shoving the people aside. However, Pendergast and Sky were already gone when she managed to make it to the front. Angrily, the princess stormed her way up to her father, grabbing the owl along the way. “Father, you should have let him at least try! He worked hard to make this for Derek.”

“Ugh, get that out of my face.” Zøg hid his face with his hand. “I don’t want to see it.”

“Let me show you—” Bean was about to press where the button would have been on her own gift from Sky.

“I said no!” Zøg slapped the object. Bean gasped as the owl flew out of her arms. It flipped in the air and hit the top of the steps. It bounced then hit the last step, busting in front of the crowd. They all gasped and moved away quickly from the parts that exploded from the owl’s innards. “Dad…”

With angry tears in his eyes, Derek shot straight up. “Can I just have one birthday without you two yelling and ruining it?!” he screamed: he ran off while crying.

Zøg reached for him as he ran. “Derek!” he called out but the prince still ran. “Goddamnit…  _ Goddamnit  _ Bean, why do you have to ruin everything?!”

“Me?!  _ I _ ruined it?” Bean pointed to herself with her hands. “I wasn’t the one who broke Derek’s gift!”

“I don’t care!” Standing up, Zøg glared at his daughter and pointed a serious finger at her. “Bean, until you stop being an ungrateful little tramp, consider your alcoholic days over! I will start a goddamn prohibition if I have to!” His face turned beat red from all his yelling. 

“You know what—” Bean gripped her fist. “ _ Fuck  _ you Zøg and all that you represent!” Pointing her own finger, she turned and ran away from the thrones. The guests parted for her, shocked at such a reaction. Bean ran until her lungs felt like they were bruising. Her breaths were laborious enough to push against her chest, hurting her breast that still ached with the bite marks. 

She made it to the stables. She had real intent of running away that night: without her friends. Just by herself. That’s all she needed.

However, when she approached, she was greeted the most beautiful singing. Freezing for a moment, she was scared to approach. Yet, she was still drawn in. 

In one of the stables was the most beautiful unicorn she had ever seen: its black mane shined with the moonlight shining through the stable windows. 

**Author's Note:**

> I watched Disenchantment right when it came out cause I was so excited, but I never really got into it as a fandom. This is a pilot first chapter to see if this is something I both would enjoy to write and will be enjoyable to others. If you're interested in hearing more from me, I am highly active on my Instagram: Vidjauser.


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